Good Luck
by Nashi Hane
Summary: Third in the 'Luck' series, so please read the other two stories first.
1. Delivery for Crawd Winchester

Whoohoo. Now that Hiro and K are a couple, what could tear them apart may also bring them closer together…a continuation of the 'Luck' trilogy, and it's final instalment…read Bad Luck first, followed by Changing Luck to get the story thus far. You can also read Getting Lucky, but it is not essential to the story line.

Showers are nice in the morning, especially on these days in July that simply boil you in your skin both literally and figuratively speaking. The radio said to expect a high of 43 degrees Celsius, and that's not counting humidity. Typical day in a sub-tropical climate…my hair's all frizzy. Sometimes I think I should cut it off, go back to the way it was during the time I spent training for the secret service.

Scratch that. It'd bring back to many things I'm trying to forget.

I'm going to be late for work, and Touma can kiss my ass. But the client is, affluent, and thus I, as the manager of Bad Luck, need to be there to make sure that we don't get screwed over. I think I'll take a little extra heat with me to day, see if that will pressure this associate to see things my, err, in NG's point of view.

Another day and another moron to introduce to the end of a hand held firearm. If I didn't enjoy it so much, I'd hate my job. 

Hiro's still asleep, so I give him a quick peck on the forehead and turn on the air conditioning before making my way to the nearest McD's for breakfast. Their burgers taste the same no matter what continent you're on.

--

The soft caress of lips roused me momentarily from the land of dreams to a reality of sweat soaked sheets, and not because of any activity in them but because of the weather. Strands of my hair cling to my neck despite the braid and bun I've put it into, and then a wave of cool air hits and I'm in heaven. I hear the front door close as K sneaks out to go to some god awful meeting that I'm so glad I don't have to participate in and let my head sink into the pillow.

Oh yuck. Smell city. I know that the water's gone so I need to wait for my shower, but that doesn't mean I need to wait on the laundry which so desperately needs to be done. Another few days and the pair of jeans in the corner could very well walk out on it's own. It's in the smells but not visibly dirty pile, which is next to the visibly dirty but not smelly pile, which is connected to the dirty and smelly pile. The wearable pile has diminished to the point where it consists of my grey sweatpants and K's old dress shirt that he normally sleeps in, but it's been too hot for clothes in bed, so it's still relatively wearable. Definitely laundry time.

I check my sugars and realize I'm going to need breakfast before I do anything else, draw up my insulin, and head to the kitchen. Digging through the fridge I decide that leftover boiled potatoes and orange juice it is. Orange juice with lots of ice. Lots of ice. I've just started to run the water to wash the dishes when the doorbell rings. 

Crap. I look like a house wife with my hair mostly up and K's shirt over top of ratty sweats. But it might be important, so I have to at least answer it. Who could possibly be coming over at eight in the morning anyways? It's not exactly visiting hours. I know I'm grumpy in the morning, but this is ridiculous.

I open the door and no one's there. I hope I didn't take too long to answer…not. Probably a salesman or something, looking to unload a vaccum cleaner. I have the door nearly closed when a small voice asks in English.

"Are you my daddy's girlfriend?" I look down to see a kid in a t-shirt and jeans holding the handle of a suitcase and a letter. He's blond, and very obviously American, with Nike runners laced up neatly. He can't be more than seven years old, and no adult in sight.

"Where are your parents?" I ask, wishing not for the first time that I'd kept my English intelligible. The kid's face scrunches a bit.

"Mom needed to get going to the photo shoot. She said Dad was expecting me…is this the right apartment? I…I'm not sure about reading the address." The letter is held out for me to take. I do, it's the right address…or at least, the one on the envelope matches the one on the door. Chikusho…(damn it). What was K's kid called?

"You are Michael?" God, that name is torture to my tongue. The kid brightens.

"Yes! Um…hai! Do you know my Dad?" He asks, eyes the same shade as my lover's sparkling. 

"Yesh. Ah… yes. I know your father well."

"Are you his girlfriend? You're very pretty." I feel my face heat a little, whether from anger or embarrassment I don't care to know.

"I'm a boy. You're Dad isn't home right now."

"Oh…" The kid deflates, I think he's going to cry. I can not deal with this before I wake up completely.

"C'mon inside. We'll wait for him to get back, okay?" I put on my best stage face, smiling for the boy who smiles back. I hold the door open for him as he drags his luggage behind and into the living room. I follow, with a series of questions screaming through my mind, the least of which is…

What the hell am I going to do with a kid who doesn't speak the same language for six hours until K gets back?


	2. Children so soon?

Woohoo…a day with the son of K. Poor Hiro, what's he gonna do? Read and respond!

"Hiro-san. I'm hungry." Michael says, still watching the Sumo tournament being broadcast from Nagoya. I'm not surprised, it's almost time for supper. I, however, am exhausted and there's no way I can manage to scrape together a meal. Since when did kids have so much more energy than I did? Ugh.

After letting him in I opened the spare bedroom so he could put away his things while I took a shower. I moved fast, but he was still standing around waiting for me by the time I got out.

"So…what do you usually do?" I ask, he smiles.

"I colour things! Do you have colouring books?"

"Um…no. But I think there's a store that sells some a little ways away. You up for a walk?"

"Hai!" He giggles. It's cute.

"Okay, put your shoes on and we'll go, okay?"

"Okay." He skips to the door, and I grab enough money for a children's book and a language book. I've officially used all my English vocabulary.

Once outside his hand slips into mine and he hangs close. I guess it must be scary to be around a bunch of grown ups you don't know who speak an unfamiliar language. I squeeze his hand reassuringly and double check the cash I have. There's enough.

"Do you want to get some ice cream?" I ask. We're both sweating already. He looks up at me, questioning. 

"Ice cream?" I do my best to pronounce the words as someone who speaks English would, and have more success, he smiles and nods.

"Hai!" I think that's the only Japanese he knows. I smile and lead him to the small parlour. Playing it safe, I got him vanilla. My favourite's green tea, but I know that it's not a flavour he would be used to. Besides, kids like sweet things, right?

Apparently so. The ice cream that isn't inhaled is all over his face and some of it's on his neck and hands. His napkin's gone too…I wonder if he ate it.

"Kawaii ne?" (He's cute, isn't he?) One of the other patrons gushes, and I blink. She coos over Michael, bringing out a wet wipe and cleaning him up for me. By that time, the kid's got about eight admirers and looking a little claustrophobic. I feel a sweat drop building.

"Is he yours?" One of them asks. I shake my head.

"No, I'm watching him for a friend."

"Oh. He's so adorable!"

"I suppose he is."

"Does he want another ice cream?"

"I think he's full." Sure enough, he let out a little burp, then reaches for my hand again, tugging me down to listen to him as he whispers in my ear.

"They're scary." He says. I nod and kneel down to fix his shirt a bit.

"They're trying to be nice. They think you're cute." I stand up and he takes my hand once more, looking at me with puppy dog eyes that are even more effective than Shuichi's. I melt.

"Can we get my colouring book now?" He asks. I nod, and we head out. One of the women asks what he said, and I translate.

Half an hour later, we walk out of the bookstore with a bag of colouring books, another of manga, and I have my Japanese-English dictionary. One of them even got him a new set of crayons, so we head back to the apartment where he filled the pages of both the colouring books and the manga.

And that was just the beginning.

We went to the park and played with a ball, then on the swings. I then took him to Shinjuku Gyoen where we walked through and I tried to teach him some more Japanese, which was more successful than his attempts to teach me English. After a stop for some yakisoba for lunch at the apartment which let me grab more cash it was off to Sea Paradise amusement park where he and I broke the record for the most consecutive drops on the Blue Fall. My head spinning, it was off to the souvenir shop where he picked up a white seal that had the softest material and was almost as big as he was.

He fell asleep on the subway home, and I carried him up to the apartment. I left him in the living room on the couch and tried to phone K, but got only the signal that his pager was off. Footsteps alerted me to the fact that Michael was once again awake, and his flying tackle resulted in a tickle match that would have made my pink haired friend proud and left me gasping for air. I am ticklish, and this kid seemed to have an affinity for finding each and every ticklish spot.

Fortunately for me, he doesn't have any spots, he's ticklish everywhere. He rested his head on my heaving chest once it was over.

"Do you know when my Dad's getting home?" He asked softly.

"No I don't. He should be home for supper though." He nodded and sat up, letting me do the same. I found small arms around my neck a split second later.

"Arigato (Thank you) Hiro-san. For taking care of me."

"You're welcome Mai-chan." I hugged him back. The nickname was much easier on my mouth, and he didn't seem to mind at all. "Why don't you watch some TV?" 

"Okay." He squeezed my neck once more and went back to the living room. I heard the TV turn on a few seconds later, then he was back.

"Which one changes the channels?" I ushered him back, explained the remote as best I could, then flopped down in the chair next to him. He eventually settled on the Sumo program, which made me realize just how late it actually was, and also that I had no energy to even move, let alone make supper. Take out it was. K should be getting back soon, it's been six hours…

The TV clicks off and the blond kid crawls into my lap, tucks his head under my chin, and curls up. Moments later his breathing is deep and rhythmic, but I don't notice since I've fallen asleep as well.


	3. Home sweet home

K gets home from a long day in the office, only to find something he would never expect curled about his one and only... 

It's days like these that make me wonder why I quit the secret service in the first place. If it was because of the paper work, well then gimme back my badge. My hand's cramping from all the paper signing, but it was worth it since Bad Luck now has licence to release in North America. All I have left to do is pull a few strings here and there and they can start a tour if they want. Sitting in a chair all day does wonders for the back, let me tell you, and I know I've got this half idiotic, half lecherous grin smeared across my face at the thought of Hiro working those kinks and knots out with instrument supple hands.

Better walk a little faster. And refrain from skipping, it's scaring the old people. 

I guess a 191cm tall white guy with a blond ponytail packing heat and laughing while skipping down the street can do that. Oh well. It's fun, so what are you going to do about it? Try and stop me? I think not…

Careful to not upset the landlady _again_ I make my way to the apartment that used to be my house, and is now our home. A subtle distinction, but an important one none the less. It's good to be home.

Wait a minute. I smell smoke.

Not a good thing. Very not a good thing. Especially when you have a good literal ton of ammunition and weaponry stashed illegally all about the place. 

I test the knob once to check the temperature, no use getting crispy in a back draft, then grab the fire extinguisher from the hall hook up and kick the door open. It's hinges are toast, but I'm more concerned about what's inside the apartment being toasted than any stupid door. It's what's most important to me. 

Crouching low to avoid the smoke I put my thigh muscles to good work and run. He's not in the kitchen, and neither is the fire. The bedroom is clear of even smoke until I open the door and let it in. Bathroom is empty. I rush to the living room and feel my heart stop.

He's there, and so is Michael. I would recognize those blond strands anywhere. No time to think about _how_ they got there, just get them out of there. I remember why I quit the secret service now, it's so my family wouldn't be endangered all the time. Looks like it worked, not! 

I take a huge gulp of the better, not good but better, air near the floor, swing Hiro over my right shoulder, and pick Michael up with my left arm. The fire's centred around the entertainment system…and creeping towards where I have a decigram or so of plastic explosives. Shit shit shit shit shit! Decision time.

I choose to run for it. There's only a slim chance either way that I could put the fire out with one measly extinguisher, or get us far enough away that we won't be immediately killing in the imminent explosion. I run as fast as I can, shouting at the top of my lungs for everyone to bail as we scramble down the stairs. Someone, I think it's one of my neighbours but I'm not sure, goes to the sixth floor and hammers on the doors to clear people out. Hiro stirs, and I set him on his feet.

"Can you walk?" I shout. He blinks, coughs, and nods. I shove Michael into his arms and push.

"Get out of here! It's gonna blow!" His eyes widen.

"You?" He coughs. I smile and flash him the victory sign.

"I'll be fine. GO!" He nods, coughing again, and starts to stumble down the stairs. I pound doors right and left on the fifth floor, watching the stairwell as people from the seventh and sixth rush down, leaving splinters and broken hinges in my wake. Out of the eight complexes on each level, only three of them are filled right now, and I pick up the two toddlers letting their mother run on her own.

We make it to the third floor before the first explosion goes off. It's not big enough to be the plastics, so I have to assume the fire reaches the grenades first. Just wonderful. The kids aren't too badly damaged, and people are getting back on their feet. More running time. 

Smoke and ash flutter down beside the windows of the staircase. It stinks and makes it hard to breath, but somehow we make it outside. I pass the kids off in favour of finding my kid. I know Hiro will be with him, so it's just a matter of finding the only other blond.

"Keep moving away! It could collapse!" I shout, knowing that could is an understatement. It's only a matter of time.

Another explosion, followed quickly by a third. This one's the big one. Debris rains down not five seconds later, and there are still people in the lobby. Crap. Time for some heroics…forgive me Hiro, Michael, if I don't come out of this one completely whole.

"C'mon. We've gotta run for it! Go through the debris and as far away from here as possible!" My lungs are starting to ache from all the ash and dust, so I tear my sleeve and wrap it about my nose and mouth before pushing, shoving, yelling, and sometimes carrying people out of the building that's going down far too quickly to afford me any comfort. I can feel the generalized panic of the crowd, and do my best to control it, but I'm one man with one voice trying to move a hundred. It's impossible for complete crowd control at this point, if ever.

"This way! You can make it!" Another voice I would recognize anywhere joins mine, getting the people halfway across the debris field to stumble along a little faster with a more purposeful direction in mind. He coughs, and waves to me. I spar a second and wave back before rushing in again.

Michael was standing beside him, and clutching his hand. Neither of them were panicking, and I'd never been prouder of either of them.

The landlady is cursing as I shove her out in the daylight, I'm surprised she didn't melt on the spot, looks like one more family to move, and that's everyone. I'm impressed, it can't have been more than six minutes since I first smelled the smoke, and yet nearly a hundred people have been evacuated. Nearly. Five to go.

The father has an infant tight in his grip, the mother another, just barely a year older than the first. I point and shout, then grab the grandmother and make for the doors post haste. 

We're across the street when the largest explosion rips through the air and knocks me off my feet, sending me tumbling. I do my best to shield the grandma, feeling burning hot shrapnel collide with my back and the ground around us, then a chunk of cement around the size of a fist impacts with my skull and I black out.

Don't you just hate me? If so, then tell me! .:starts waving a silver pendant in front of reader's eyes:. Responses are good…responses are good…responses are good….

The fire will be explained next update…


	4. Friends in high places

Short chapter this one…Hiro finds out that K having friends in high places comes in handy at times…

They tell me he'll wake up within the next two hours and I've insisted that we be allowed to stay past visiting hours at the offer of giving good reviews to the hospital. From the mouth of a star… Michael's fallen asleep in the crook of his arm like I want to do so badly, but the bed's too small for K, let alone K, Michael, and Hiro. It's only a concussion, no swelling of the brain or anything serious…plus the stress of the day, they thought it better to let him wake up on his own. Two hours… 

My phone was ringing off the hook for almost six hours after the paramedics managed to clear the scene. Luckily, no one died, though there were some serious casualties from the shrapnel from the explosion, as well as a range of scrapes, bruises, and smoke inhalation for Michael and me. I don't think I'll be singing back up at the next concert, we'll have to use a tape. Touma razed me bad for that, then turned the phone over to Sakano, who was trembling so bad he dropped his end and disconnected the call. I shut my phone off immediately after that call, and let NG Studios handle the majority of the paper work as to where we'll be for the next while until we can find another apartment. 

"Nakano-san?" The soft voice of one of the nurses watching this ward interrupts my thoughts and I turn from gazing blankly at the two blonds curled up on the too small bed to go into the hall. There are two members of the fire department there, as well as a yanki* woman I don't recognize…and the guy from the, erm, store…

"Hiro! Man, you look like shit!" He greets. Cheerful. Weirdo.

"Thanks. It's the latest fad." I mutter back, glaring. The department official clears his throat. 

"Nakano-san. Before proceeding I must inquire as to your health."

"I'm fine. A little smoke inhalation, but I've got an emergency supply of insulin from the hospital and the Studios are arranging a temporary residence for K, Michael and myself."

"K is also known as Crawd Winchester?"

"Yes." I want nothing more than to go to sleep right now. The other man clears his throat.

"It has been determined that the blaze was a result of a spark from an over loaded electrical socket catching hold of close by flammable material, but not enough was left to determine what that material was. We need to know if this was due to building standard violations or if there was anything that you know of that could have…" He continues to drone on, but I know…I know exactly what caused this.

"Colouring books… the sound system." I mutter, he catches my words under his own.

"That will suffice. Thank you for your time." The two members of the fire department turn, and the woman snorts.

"Now that they're done, I'm afraid I have some more questions for you Nakano-san."

"Shoot." Get this over with. We're already going to have to shell out our life savings for a fire that was my fault and ended up levelling the entire apartment building and doing serious damage to the surrounding structures. I'm surprised when metal face takes my arm and leads us into an empty room. The woman closes the door behind us and a faint click tells me we're locked in. How did she get the key? 

"How much do you know of your domestic partner's history in America?" She moves so I can see the butt of a Smith and Wesson hanging from a shoulder holster inside her blazer. It's one of three guns that I recognize on sight, two of which can be carried on your person. 

"Not much. I know he worked in law enforcement." I go with the story that we'd discussed in case of strangers asking about our personal life. He's told me much more than that, but I can act, and I want to know more before I give any information to people I don't know.

"Clear." Metal face says, and I turn my head to see him checking the monitor in the room. They both relax.

"The less you know the better. Tell K to call H at this number once he's up and about, and that it's taken care of. He'll know what it means." I take the slip of paper she offers, and metal face grins.

"Call me anytime." He winks…at least, I think that's what that was…I couldn't tell beneath the piercings.

"My name is Hana, this is Shinyu. If you need anything, just take the phone from K's left breast pocket and press star two. It's unlikely, but now neither of you can be too careful. I advise laying low for the next three or so months, though I don't think it possible considering your occupation. Just don't do anything stupid, and tell K the same. Understood?"

"I…yeah." She smiles, somehow making that expression the most fearsome of all.

"Good." And then I'm brought back into the hall, and Shinyu takes a little button from the camera.

"Sleep tight Hiro buddy!" He calls, leaving me alone once more to listen to the steady breathing of my lover and his son. I reach over, yank the chair to the bedside, and entwine my fingers in K's. His are as calloused as my own, but for an entirely different reason. People could have died today. We could have died today. 

I let my head fall to the mattress that smells strongly of detergent, and can only keep my eyes open long enough to see Michael's hand stray on top of mine. He's a good kid. I'm exhausted. I sleep.


	5. Scwushes and ice cream

After the last craptackular chapter…I still don't like the way it went, but that's personal issues and I needed to get some things introduced and cleared…starting up from a new view point!!! Much happier with this chapter. Much happier.

I don't like it here. It's scary. But daddy's still sleeping and Hiro-san's gone someplace with the other big people. I want my mommy and Ark. I don't want to stay in Japan any more…but I don't want to leave Hiro-san. He's nice. He got my crayons and colouring books from the scary ladies that kept pinching me and saying stuff I didn't understand, and took me on the rides. I like the one that went up, then beeped so you could look at the ocean before whoosh! down you fell. It made my tummy feel funny. We went on that one a hundred times, but I think Hiro-san was starting to get sick. 

He said he was my daddy's boyfriend. I don't understand that really…maybe, in Japan, boys can have boyfriends like mommy has girlfriends? That would be okay, my daddy needs to have fun friends when he can't be with mommy and me and Ark in America. I haven't seen Ichi yet…does he know I'm here? I came on the big plane just to see him and daddy while mommy gots to get more pictures taken at someplace that I can't say cause it's a secret. He's silly, but he'll always take the time to colour with me. I brought him a picture that I drew, same with daddy…but I don't have them anymore, cause the house blew up.

Maybe daddy and Ichi and Hiro-san can come live with me in my house since they don't have one anymore. I think that would be nice, but there's not enough bedrooms. I know that Hiro-san and daddy already share a bedroom, but Ichi would have to stay with me, cause mommy and Ark already share, and there aren't any more rooms. I guess that's okay, but he can't have my blanket. I could move my friends that sleep on the bottom bunk and put them on a shelf, and then he could sleep there. That will work! 

My lungs hurt, and I smell like smoke. It's gross. Daddy smells better than me, like the things that mommy likes to eat. I miss mommy. I miss Ark. I want my daddy to wake up and play with me. I want Hiro-san to come back. It's too quiet here, and none of the nurse ladies can talk to me cause I don't know what they're saying and they don't know what I'm saying. I understand a few things, like kawhaie, cause Hiro-san told me that it means the lady thinks I'm cute. I haven't seen anyone else my age since I got here. Hiro-san says they go to school now. Why would they go to school in the summer?

Maybe…maybe they don't really have any kids here but babies and big kids. That's probably why the scary ladies kept touching my hair and face. They don't see kids, which means that I'm special. Mommy says I am, and Ark says so too. I think Hiro-san likes me, and I know that daddy does. I'm tired, and my head hurts. I hope daddy doesn't mind if I cuddle with him, even though I'm big now. The fire and blow up were scary, and I don't wanna sleep by myself.

Mommy said that daddy's boyfriend was in a band. Did it get blowed up too? I hope not, cause I think he's really cool. It would be sad if his band was gone like my picture. I saw his guitar, it looked fun, but we went for the ice cream before I could ask him if I could play. If his band is okay, then maybe he has a different guitar. Would he let me play with that one? I remember Ichi was in a band, but he singed and didn't play instruments. Oops. Not singed. Sung. I think Ichi looks funny when he sings. He's different then.

Hiro-san came back. He looks tired. I think he got scared too, cause he takes daddy's hand and puts his head on the bed. I don't think there's enough room for him to fit on too. Maybe he wants a cuddle like I do. I'm too tired to get up and give him a scwush like Ark gives me when I get scared. I reach and hold his hand like he's holding daddy's. It makes him smile, and then he falls asleep. I'm tired too. I know daddy and Hiro-san will keep the fire and bad nasties away. So I sleep too. Maybe, when I wake up, Ichi and mommy will be back, and we can get ice cream.

Cheese whiz it's hard to write kids….


	6. Picturesque

Sorry it's taken me so long to update!! Typing with a brace is hard…I can't wait to get it off…plus the whole job search thing…mou… Alrighty, now that I've done my moping it's time to get onto, you guessed it, Hiro and K…alternating pov.

"Hiro?! HIIIRRROOOOOOO!!!!" I know that screech. My neck is so sore…

"You going to show up and tell him you're alive or do I have to maim him?" I know that voice.

"K! You're alright? No permanent damage?"

"An interesting scar. My hair covers it."

"So when you're old and fat and bald I'll have to stare at some freaky ass scar?"

"You know it."

"At least we know now that nothing can damage your head."

"Solid titanium!"

"So is your stomach…how can you eat this junk?" I look at the tray that the nurse left nearly ten minutes ago and drag it over to where K is just sitting up without waking Michael. Shuichi's still screaming, but it's fading. I really should stick my head out and wave. But first…I want a shower. My hair's sticking up and itchy and I smell like smoke and dirt.

Yuck. I admit, I'm the last person who should complain, what with the way I organize my things on the largest shelf in the house…namely, the floor…and am the priest of the Church of 'if it doesn't smell, it's clean' fashion statements. But I do smell…bad. I can smell me. That's bad. K's managed to wiggle out of the too small bed leaving Michael to drool on the pillow.

He's just like daddy.

"HIIIROOO!!! KEEEEEEIIII!!! HIIIIROOOOO!"

"KAAAYY!!!" Apparently Sakuma-san's here as well, the only way to differentiate from their screaming, and that's through the slight accent Sakuma-san has from his time in the states. Perfect.

"I'm heading to the washroom, be out in fifteen." K nods and sits in the chair I slept in to watch Michael as I clean up. The small room to the side is just that, small. Somehow, the hospital managed to fit a sink, toilet, and shower in the space of an airplane lavatory. Small…and clean and stocked with soaps and shampoos and towels. All I need is a change…but unfortunately no such thing exists. I have the clothes on the floor, and that's it…including K's and my own wallets. That's something at least, and it's not like we can't afford new things.

Aw shit…my guitar. I've had that thing since I was six…

No moping. It's not going to do anything about our current situation. Still…I know that my face isn't completely warm and wet from the shower alone.

--

"K?" A blond head pops in, then smiles in relief. Just for a split second though…don't I feel special.

"Quiet. Michael's sleeping."

"Aa. I've arranged for a list of available housing…do you want to look now, or shall I leave it for later?"

"Later." Touma comes in completely and closes the door behind him, blocking out the screaming of two stars with whom I've had the…experience…of managing. He's followed closely by Mika, which explains the look on his face…

Contrary to popular belief, there was love there, at first. I remember sitting in on chat sessions between Touma, Ryuichi and Noriko where it was obvious he was head over heels for her, and she for him. He missed practises for her…nearly missed a concert. I remember the first time she took him over to the Temple to meet her family…

He hardly spoke of her at all after that…then went to America with her younger brother. I remember sabotaging the crime scene after he cleaned up… He's rarely smiled since, or laughed like he used to. I miss the younger version of him, but I can respect the older one.

"You look like shit." He's also grown a little more blunt…

"Thank you! It's the latest fad…" Mika cracks a grin, but I only get a nod from the keyboardist turned big shot head of the company named after the band he once thrived from…

"Why don't you grab a shower K? We brought some clothes." Mika hands me a bag that smells like new. I take it, gratefully. There's nothing like a butt flap that's not really a flap…I can feel her staring as I move towards the washroom where Hiro's disappeared to, and flash a grin that gets her to flush before moving inside.

Definitely small.

The shower's going, and it's a safe bet that Hiro would welcome a little company. I place the bag on the floor and throw our clothes out…they were little more than rags anyways. The shower's larger than the room it's door is in…which is a good thing. A very good thing.

Hiro's crying…not hard, not sobbing, his breathing remains even. It looks like a good idea, and I wrap my arms around him.

"Michael?"

"Seguchi's are watching him."

"Ah."

We stand there until the water turns our skin white and wrinkled.

--

At times…it's nice to be held. I must remember to thank Touma for bringing something that doesn't smell like…yuck…and fits well. He does have access to my size, seeing as he's in charge of the company that provides my costumes for the stage, but it's still nice to know that he cares enough to find out or send someone to find out for him. The outfit K received however….

I honestly think that Ryuichi picked it out under the influence… it's lime green with teal bunnies and violet flowers, and doesn't close completely around his chest, so he's left it open…and his shorts, yes, shorts, are yellow with burnt orange trim. I'd feel sorry for the guy, but he's enjoying the change from the dress shirt and slacks he usually wears far too much for it too be healthy.

He was skipping.

I was disturbed…again.

You would think that I'd be used to his quirks by now, but noooo….he always manages to surprise me.

Like in the shower. I was not expecting him to just appear like that. Not that I minded, and it was nice to be held. 

Michael was just waking up by the time we emerged, and he disappeared into the washroom to change and wake up a bit more. Somehow, Touma managed to get him a school uniform. It's very charming. He and Ryuichi are currently comparing drafts of the large purple duck shaped swing set outside of the window, and I'm sorry to say that Michael is definitely winning. He got the purple part right…

K's placed every other picture they've completed in the bag our clothes came in, marking them on the back with either an M or R.

"Wanna cola?" Shuichi asks as he pushes the door open with his hip. He's got his arms full of pop and snacks, his opinion of hospital gunk lower than mine, and I snatch up a diet ginger ale and bag of dried squid. The salt is attractive after the bland …thing… they called breakfast. Maybe some pumpkin seeds as well, lunch is a long way off and I'm hungry.

Shuichi's grabbed a pad of paper and handful of crayons from the bag of things they brought along, and shoved them into my hands. Ryuichi saw…

Within five minutes everyone has their own piece of paper, and is scribbling away. For a moment, it's possible to forget where we are, why we're here, and just play. Shuichi's rendition of Yuki is…interesting. 

"Um…Shu? There are children present…" I sweat drop at the puzzled look he gives me.

"It's what Yuki looks like." The yellow crayon is applied.

"D'you think that…before you let Michael see it…Yuki could have some pants? Just maybe?" I raise an eyebrow.

"But that's how I remember him…last time I saw him…" A thin trail of drool leaks out of my friend's mouth…I hope I never look like that…the sweat drop grows.

"At least make it a PG rated picture…"

"Mou…Hidooooiiii! Hiro…."

"For me? I'll be your best friend…"

"You are my best friend, and you're mean!"

"You know what? You're right. Pants on now."

"When did you get all maternal?" The muttered words reach my ears and it's all I can do to prevent myself from reaching out and strangling him. Me? Maternal? As if…

His face is nearly the same shade as his hair, he's making these little gasping noises, and his skin is smooth under my fingers. Guess I'm not as good at self control as I thought. Oh well. He's dead anyways. His sister used to take his lunches away when he annoyed her, I prefer to kill whatever brain cells may have tried to work. Standard punishment for him calling me anything related to the other gender, really. 

Ever since I started to grow out my hair he's commented…and I commented right back. That's why I freaked out when he first showed blatant interest in the same sex. Not that I'm one to talk, but still…for a moment I thought it was my fault, and had these corruption of a minor charges springing up in front of my eyes. 

Then I remembered that he was nineteen, and not a minor.

Even though he still acts like one…but so does Sakuma-san. It really makes me wonder whether or not he'll still be eating crayons at ninety.

All signs point to yes.

For once, I pity Yuki. 

And the people who are going to wonder what it is that they're cleaning up when he barfs later. He's eaten six or seven of the crayons as well as two boxes of pocky and chocolate and a heavily sugared pop, all within the last five minutes. And he's always bouncy. Later may be sooner…he looks greener than number 42, emerald green. I can count down as he squeals and dances in place, applauding Touma's reaction to Yuki in bunny slippers and nothing else while his stomach churns multi-coloured wax the texture of cottage cheese.

3

2

1

….colourful.


	7. May god have mercy on your souls

Update! Gasp…it's been so long…and the luck trilogy winds up in one more chapter…this is just a little bit on what K goes through every day…

"Thank you, S. You've been a great help."

"My pleasure sir…please, enjoy your flight."

"I will." And it's true. For once I will be flying and enjoying it even though I won't be at the controls…though I know my work is cut out for me….

I should have booked a separate plane…

How am I going to keep Bad Luck, Nittle Grasper, the Uesugis, ten techs, a sobbing producer, and myself from killing each other?

Confined space….nine hour flight….third class tickets…due to corporate greed…brings a tear to your eye.

Luckily, I have a plan. It took a lot of work to come up with and no one else could have done such a thing so quickly.

First…wait for take off which is only delayed half an hour by Sakano's fainting spell. Make sure Shuichi and Ryuichi are buckled tightly. Double check overhead baggage. Re-buckle Ryuichi. Chase out fan screaming for autograph. Re-buckle Ryuichi. Second, drag Hiro into the washroom and handcuff him and gag him. There's not enough room in those things for him to kick, so there's no problem. He can live without air. Come back and hand Ryuichi some candy which will give me enough time to ply Touma with high quality rye and hope to god his sadistic side doesn't suddenly materialize and…what am I saying? Hope that his even more sadistic side doesn't materialize, kind of like that other blond on that show I was watching yesterday…Quarter or something…Quatre. With some sort of system…meh. Then it's go back and re-buckle Ryuichi.

Third, feed Shuichi and Ryuichi each an entire pack of gravol…in something with a low sugar concentration. It's the only thing that's not prescription that will knock them out for at least a portion of the flight.

Consol the Uesugis.

Using high powered precision explosives and hand guns…

Explain to the crew that I know what I'm doing. Check on Hiro…make locking him in the washroom worth the handcuffs.

Grab a bag of peanuts. Ply Eiri with high quality Canadian beer, thus knocking him out cold. If Japanese beer gives him a buzz at six cans, American will take him in three…Canadian beer…half a can, max. It's the one thing I can condone the smuggling of. Good stuff…if you like beer. Grab Ryuichi from the cockpit and re-buckle him next to Shuichi…they can keep each other entertained while I hand Fujisaki a pillow. Smart boy…sleeping for most of the flight instead of seeing if they can get the plane to rock by smashing from one wall to the other.

I thought I gave them gravol.

Release Hiro from the handcuffs and get him to distract Shuichi while I handle Ryuichi with a small colouring book and two crayons. Why two? Because he can't scribble on the walls too much before he runs out of colour and needs to come to me to get more.

Convince the flight attendants that he's normal and no we do not need to sedate everyone…er…anyone. Do so politely so we don't get kicked off mid-flight since the American's leaders are so…paranoid about any weapons at all.

I can't believe they took my hair clips…

Make sure Ryuichi and Shuichi don't unfold their emergency parachutes and that Touma and Eiri are still out…why I agreed to let anyone but Shuichi, Hiro, Suguru and Sakano come is beyond…oh yeah. Hiro can be…convincing.

Re-buckle Ryuichi.

America…here we come.

May whatever god you worship have mercy on your souls.


	8. This is my strange dream come true

Final instalment of the luck arc. Final chapter of the final instalment of the luck arc. I think I'm gonna cry…nah…though I do warn you this is pretty sappy. Mou…my teeth itch…

He looks good on stage. Real good. I think that my heart has exploded and I know it's pride in him as to the cause…I'm so proud. My blond, the little one that somewhere along the line got taller than me. He's a lady killer as much as his dad still is, though Michael never seemed to have as much of a draw towards guns as Crawd. Knives however… He'll be taking them with him in a month, to the new apartment.

The walls there are a light cream, with gorgeous hardwood floors and forest green accents. He looked at me funny when I started taking pictures of the bare walls, but then, he's too young to understand. I can't remember the first place I lived in after moving out of my parent's place, all I know is that it was small and smelled. I can't remember anything else. I do have small recollections of when Crawd made me move in, but those are triggered by looking at the small journal that replaced my 'hello kitty' diary after the fire. It's all in there. We've been living in America now for a good three years, and I've had it easy for the last month since Bad Luck is taking a break for a bit to get in some rest time.

Amazing, really, that we've outshone our heros so much. Nittle Grasper broke up again, permanently, four years after their reformation when Noriko's husband became ill. He was a good man, but hearts tend to wear out after time and well…just like Shuichi felt Bad Luck couldn't go on without me, Ryuichi couldn't sing without Noriko. She…followed her husband as soon as the kids were taken care of… After that, with her gone, it just wasn't the same. I understand how a change in relationships within the group can change the music. First, when we started out, it was Shuichi's relationship with Eiri. Our music was passionate, strong, and fast, just like Shuichi felt towards Eiri. I can't believe how mean I was to him then, when all he needed was someone he could trust…Eiri that is. He's actually a tolerable guy. They still fight, but it doesn't fool any of us since they're usually smiling when they call each other names. Both of them.

Then, there was me and my illness and falling in love with Crawd, our manager. As a band, our songs took on a slower, more serious tone…though unless you were paying attention you wouldn't have noticed. Just like Crawd and I. It was good for everyone involved, and got us the attention of a then up and rising Canadian recording company, which in turn took us to America, where we broke five hundred thousand sales within two months before heading back to Japan and not having to learn a word of English.

Thank the gods I didn't have to teach Shuichi English.

Two years later, Suguru met Reina. They're expecting their third in four months. Hanako and Raiden are playing with Ryuichi in the lobby, since they can't sit still for long enough to watch. Any of them. That's okay, I don't think Ryu-chan will ever grow up even though he's reaching what could be termed mid-life. We've hired a photographer, so he can look at the pictures later.

My Michael's an engineer, and looks every inch the part. He's grown so much from the seven year old chicken legged boy I first met. Now, at twenty-four, our son has become a man of his own. I hand Judy a tissue before Ark or Crawd can. We all sympathize with her, even if Crawd is the only one of us emotional enough to match her tear of joy for tear of joy. They're his biological parents after all, maybe that has something to do with it.

All I know is that I have a loving family, the best friends in the world, a successful child, a job I love, and am well off enough to never have to worry about going hungry or having clean water to drink. Despite the name of our band, troubles at the start, little things that have come up, we have the best luck in the world.

This is my strange dream come true.

I don't want to wake up.

Ever.


End file.
